


Senate Rotunda, 1400 hours

by moreless



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brief Outside POV, Emperor Armitage Hux, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Amidala, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Tumblr: kyluxhardkinks, senator au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreless/pseuds/moreless
Summary: No one would think that Emperor Hux spends what little free time he has under Kylo Amidala's skirts, sucking him off.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 19
Kudos: 138





	Senate Rotunda, 1400 hours

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [В сенатской ротонде в два часа](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29557653) by [WTF Kylo and Hux 2021 (Our_Own_Star_Wars)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Our_Own_Star_Wars/pseuds/WTF%20Kylo%20and%20Hux%202021)



> Written for this [Kyluxhardkinks prompt](https://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/post/619937105007837184/kylux-sex-in-a-public-area-where-the-risks-of):
>
>> Kylux sex in a public area where the risks of getting caught in the act are high. Maybe a formal even with Emperor Hux and Kylo Amidala? Or unlocked classroom with BenArmie? Or anything?

There’s already someone in the antechamber. A senator, Vriss can tell immediately, only they would run around dressed this gaudily, but it’s only once she’s taken in the headpiece when she realises who it is.

“Senator Amidala!” She bows her head in acknowledgement. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this room was occupied.”

Senator Kylo Amidala turns, blinking slowly at her before his dark gaze suddenly sharpens. “The senate isn’t set to meet for another hour.”

“Yes,” says Vriss. She knows this. It’s her job to know this. “Senator Taa has requested me to drop off some documents at his box. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Senator Amidala nods slowly. His eyes are hooded, long dark lashes brushing against his cheek. Vriss notices this because part of his ensemble today includes a tiny crystal at the corner of each eye, catching the light every time he shifts. It draws the eye to his long, narrow face, traps it with his intense gaze. This isn’t the first time Vriss has seen the senator, but it’s the first time she’s spoken to him. As his gaze sharpens, taking in her aide’s uniform and the box of flimsi in her arms, she wonders if that’s what it’s like to be across from him in the senate rotunda, if all his rivals feel like this too—like he’s looking right through them.

“Those aren’t confidential documents, I trust?”

“What?” Vriss shakes her head and holds out a flimsi. “Invitations,” she explains. “The printer just had them delivered.”

Amidala’s head bobs again, and the crystals in his headpiece shift across his shoulders with gently tinkling sounds. “Carry on then.”

Clutching the box to her chest, Vriss quickly hurries past. She spares one last backward glance at the senator, who is now leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He looks tired, and as she watches, his hand twitches and twists into the rich brocade of his heavy skirts. “Fuck,” he groans, and Vriss startles and picks up her pace. Turns a corner, then both she and he are out of sight and sound of each other.

He must have had a very stressful day, she thinks. Funny really, considering last she’d checked all is quiet with Naboo, and the first senate session of the day has yet to begin.

* * *

It’s kriffing stifling under Kylo’s bloody skirts, and Hux hasn’t been on his knees a minute before they’re already beginning to ache despite the plush carpet. He’s getting too old for this. But when Kylo’d suggested he crawl under his dress and blow him...well, the promise that he was bare beneath all those ridiculous embroidered layers had sweetened the deal. He’d dropped with the vigour and enthusiasm of a man with fewer years and far fewer responsibilities, but he might need some help getting up after this. For now, he pulls himself up from his haunches with the aid of his grip on Kylo’s thighs, which brings him face to face with Kylo’s cock.

He’s already half hard. “Filthy,” Hux whispers against the inside of Kylo’s thigh, and feels the muscle twitch under his hand. He buries his nose in the crease of his thigh and groin, inhaling deeply sweat and skin and subtle perfume. Hands settle on his head, over layers of skirt, gently pressing. From the outside, Kylo’s probably affecting some kind of modest and demure pose, hands folded before him like some genteel Nabooan handmaiden. Though Hux’s boots sticking out from under his gown would immediately give it all away.

Hux gently takes Kylo’s cock in hand, turning his face to mouth along its length. Precome already beads at the tip and he glides the foreskin over it, gathering it up and smearing it around until the crown glistens in the little light that filters through the heavy cloth. It’s getting very warm in here, and Hux is beginning to feel an itch running across his scalp, the one he always associates with being on planet, sweating, far away from his climate controlled citadel.

Kylo’s knee nudges his side, which Hux at first takes as an encouragement, until he hears footsteps near. He sucks in a breath, and feels Kylo’s hands move across his shoulders, pushing him down and closer. It’s too late for him to try and crawl out, they both know that, and Kylo drags the hem of his skirt over Hux’s boots seconds before the door slides open.

“Senator Amidala!” he hears through the thick fabric. The young woman doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, since she neglects to remark upon anything unusual. Kylo doesn’t dismiss her, and Hux huffs frustratedly against his cock. He can’t move, since he can’t tell from under here how much he’s distending Kylo’s gown, and there’s an building ache in his back determined to mirror the ache in his knees. He licks a drop of sweat from his upper lip, and then, for the hell of it, drags his tongue up the length of Kylo’s cock.

Let her catch them. He’s the emperor. He could have her executed.

Kylo’s thighs spasm under his hand as he stiffens. His cock’s already fully hard, rising level with Hux’s cheek. He wonders idly, hand returning to jack the length, if an erection—sans himself tucked away with it—would show under this ridiculous wardrobe.

Above, Kylo and the girl prattle on. When she finally starts moving again, he doesn’t wait for her footsteps to fade away before he takes Kylo into his mouth, deep as he can in one swallow.

“Fuck,” Kylo groans. Part of the skirt pulls away as his hand clenches in the fabric. The other hand fumbles around the crown of Hux’s head, cradling it closer. He swallows again, throat clicking, and feels Kylo’s shiver travelling down all around him—in his hands, still wrapped around his thighs, in the fabric rustling and brushing up against his shoulders and back and head.

Hux hums around the cock in his throat before easing back for a breath. It’s quiet beyond Kylo’s determinedly steady breathing. There’s a cramp building in one of his calves, so he shuffles around a little, sitting back on his haunches and spreading his knees to accommodate his own growing hardness. With the hand not on Kylo’s cock, he feels under him for his feet, yes, there—Kylo’s wearing heels today, low pumps, but enough to give them an arch that he can press against.

Above him he hears Kylo chuckle, then his leg shifts and his foot presses right against Hux’s crotch, right _there_ , where he’s already straining desperately against the seam. “Don’t move,” he barely hears Kylo breathe, then he begins to move his foot. There’s some kind of bauble at the end of it—on every upstroke it catches on the bottom of Hux’s fly, creating a delicious jerk of friction against his cock.

Pressure against his head again; Kylo being pushy. Hux allows it, and returns to his cock, laving his tongue against the thick vein on the underside of it then flicking the tip of his tongue right against the slit, catching more of the precome there. Another shiver, and Kylo’s legs are beginning to tremble, though that might just be the struggle of standing on one foot in these ridiculous clothes and heels while trying to bring Hux off with the other.

Hux swirls his tongue around the dripping head, slides a hand up between Kylo’s cheeks and presses a finger to his hole. He’s still loose there from last night, takes him easy to the third knuckle. He finds Kylo’s prostate and a choked grunt is all the warning he gets before Kylo floods his mouth with salty, acrid come. The pressure against his groin vanishes as Kylo puts his foot down to steady himself—Hux suppresses a whine of frustration and fumbles with the fly of his breeches.

As his hand closes around his own cock he vaguely registers the return of the aide. “Are you all right, senator?” she asks, and she comes close enough that he can feel her at his back, mere layers of brocade and petticoats concealing him. “Can I get you some water?”

“Yes, please,” says Kylo. There’s a deepened huskiness to his voice that comes post-orgasm. Hux recognises it but she wouldn’t; she probably thinks Kylo’s flirting with her. That’s what they always think. Hux’s hand twists around his cock, and he jerks when he finds the movement echoed by an invisible hand. Footsteps move away. Kylo flirts with everyone, and no one would think he spends nights in the citadel with his ass in the air, or that the emperor spends what little free time he has under his skirts, sucking him off.

A clink of glass. “Can I get you anything else, senator?”

“That will be all, thank you,” says Kylo, even as he drags the Force up Hux’s cock in a wicked twist. The hiss of the door closing hopefully drowns out Hux’s gasp as he comes, and he muffles the rest of his cry against the meat of Kylo’s thigh. Again, that hand on his head, steadying him, if only for a moment, before the skirts are gathered around him and Kylo steps away, _over_ him. The heavy fabric of his gown catches Hux’s face and he lets it topple him back on his ass to properly catch his breath.

“You got come on my Mlahniks,” Kylo observes, walking over to the door and this time sealing it.

“No one ever sees your shoes,” Hux tells him. He remains on the floor, stretching his legs out before him, and feeling pins and needles creep into them.

“The senate will be in session in forty minutes. Will the Emperor be putting in an official visit today?”

“Unofficial,” Hux groans as he clambers to his feet. “I must leave, the Hapes Consortium has requested an audience.”

“They wish to marry off their prince to you.”

“Is that so?” Hux’s lips curl as he searches Kylo’s face for any sign of jealousy, but he remains impassive. “Maybe if he dresses half as nice as you do.”

Kylo snorts inelegantly. A wave of his hand unseals the door, and Hux quickly tucks himself away before someone else walks in. He digs out a soft cap from his pocket and sweeps his hair under it—it’ll let him pass unnoticed long enough to make it to his private maglev under the building.

He makes to leave, but finds his hand seized. Kylo’s gloss needs to be touched up, he can feel how chapped his lips are against the back of his hand, but the warmth of them sears like a brand.

“My dear emperor. I’ll pass that trade bill for you, and you wouldn’t even have to consider it.”


End file.
